


I Don’t Wanna Be

by NETHERW4RT



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Boys Being Boys, Coming Out, Developing Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hanging Out, Internalized Homophobia, LGBTQ Themes, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Sexuality, Sexuality Crisis, Sleepovers, Slow Burn, Swearing, Teasing, Underage Drinking, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, also i do be projecting onto dream tho, another loose note- bad is a senior and skeppy is a sophomore, but those two go to like the “rival” school or whatever, even though this is something that happened to me in middle school, i guess i am continuing this, i think high school fits it better for them, if you could even call it that, im not good at slow burn but i will definitely try, in some kinda way, is there like a “based off my middle school crush experience” tag, its all the small things that get you, lets say that george is a senior and dream is a junior and sapnap is a sophomore, not sure why i didnt have that already, or at least thats what dream wants, pov: youre dream and youre whipped for george, pretend george moved to florida when he was younger or something idk, so be prepared for more, the usual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26500489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NETHERW4RT/pseuds/NETHERW4RT
Summary: Dream wondered if everyone looked at their best friend like that. He wondered if he was the only anomaly.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 65
Kudos: 422





	1. Changing Like the Weather

**Author's Note:**

> adding this note cause i think i should say that this is kinda just. me projecting asf lmao
> 
> basically it’s just my experience but i’m inserting george and dream instead of myself- i probably won’t notice any detail fuck ups so sorry for that
> 
> also sorry if it’s boring or super slow-paced, i was just writing most of what i could remember while trying not to spit out every little moment that wasn’t important and all

Dream drummed his fingers against his thighs as he pressed his back into the material of the bean bag; the room was neat and tidy, _just like George_ , he thought.

The far end of the room (of which wall he was leaning against) was more cluttered than the other, housing both a wide desk and a bed that craned overhead. Dream’s gaze follows the metal frame of the ladder upwards and notes the minimal space between the mattress and the ceiling; he wondered if George spent any amount of time up there aside from when he was unconscious.

“Sorry,” George called from the hallway, bending himself backwards into the room while keeping himself upright with one hand on the doorknob, “that’s the only chair I have. You can use the one at the desk if you get uncomfortable.”

“It’s alright.” Dream found himself grinning as he watched George’s eyes dart between him and the bustling of his family downstairs; he would’ve apologized for that too if another shout of his name came from downstairs. Dream nodded, understanding some part of his family responsibility—his wasn’t like that, they were much more...casual, maybe? Would that be right? They never bothered to stick with strict home jobs, either way.

Dream twirled his forefingers around each other in wait; it sounded like everyone downstairs was still just as energetic as before—their voices carried quite well despite the insulation—and he figured that it wouldn’t hurt too much to look around some more. That was a bit better than mindlessly scrolling through social media on his phone. He carefully picked himself up from the bean bag, each step lighter than the last (the floorboards creaked with every movement and now that he was alone the noise would surely drive him mad), making his way to the assortment of knickknacks displayed atop George’s dresser. Just small things—trinkets and collectibles that probably were meaningful to him, but Dream could only wonder what their stories were.

The bookcase beside it went without a missing slot, most of which were comics or light reads; George was smart, that was for sure, but Dream guessed that reading classic literature wasn’t his thing. A chuckle slipped past his lips.

The other wall framed a large mirror, of which another large cabinet fell beneath. He wouldn’t pry of course, but his mind decided that there was absolutely no way he was containing that many clothes in those drawers (not to mention the closet beside the mirror that most likely only held more clothes that rotted away without use).

“You can draw on it, you know.”

Dream almost jumped backwards at George’s voice. “Huh?” He sputtered out in surprise, unable to register the statement.

“The mirror,” George continued, stepping beside Dream. He knocked his shoulder against the other’s in a playful and friendly manner, smiling as he reached for one of the many dry-erase markers splayed across the top of the cabinet. “Just wipe it off afterward.” He popped the cap off the marker and paused for a moment to figure out what he was going to demonstrate; it didn’t take long for him to circle his arm as he drew and pulled back after a small doodle of a cat’s face was left in his tracks.

“Patches?” Dream asked slowly, shifting slightly on his heels at the expecting look George passed his way.

“Exactly!” George pushed the marker into Dream’s hands, taking a step back. “Cute, right? It’s just a lazy doodle though, so it’s not super great or anything.”

“I think it looks fine,” The taller mumbled while pushing the pad of his thumb into the bottom of the marker; he wasn’t a stellar artist either, so he settled on drawing something simple that everyone had drawn in their school notebooks at least once in their life before: an attempt at a realistic eyeball.

Needless to say, it was less than a masterpiece. But when George began to laugh and cover his mouth to fondly criticize his work, Dream started to think that it wasn’t so bad after all.

“Are you staying the night, Dream?”

Dream glanced over at his friend, who had now seated himself at the desk from earlier. “Can I?”

“If you want. My parents didn’t have a problem with it as long as you’ve got, like, clothes and all that.”

He paused and pulled his phone out from the back pocket of his jeans. “I’ll ask,” he responded, already typing out a wall of text to persuade his mom to drive over an extra shirt and pair of shorts; a sigh of relief rushed out of his lungs when she agreed. “All good.” He turned to George and flashed another cheeky grin, flopping back into the newly-flattened bean bag. “She’ll drop off some stuff for me in a bit.”

“Oh, awesome. Sounds good.” George spun around in his chair to face Dream. “We can probably just hang out in the living room and play video games until everyone heads to bed.”

“I can deal with that,” Dream knocked his fist against the other’s knee, watching his leg bounce ever so slightly with a look of amusement. “We can watch movies on your laptop, right? All I’ve got is my tiny-ass phone screen.”

George snorted—another embarrassing laugh he smothered with the palm of his hand—and pushed at Dream’s arm with the top of his foot. “Yup. You’d better not put on any weird shit.”

“Wh—I would _never_!”

“Uh-huh.” George was unconvinced, but the two were encompassed in their own laughter within mere seconds; frankly, neither of them found it that funny, but the laughter was contagious and it was hard to stop to breathe without falling into line once more.

Later on, Dream had secured his change of clothes for the morning and tucked his feet under his knees as George worked the TV to allow them to play whatever random games they could find—probably some fighting game like _Street Fighter_.

“My dad doesn’t like me messing with it too much,” George commented out of the blue, and Dream watched his back move as he shuffled through the cases of discs below the large screen. “He says everything is easy enough for him to handle, so he usually sets it up. I’ll probably be dead if I screw something up.”

“Don't then,” Dream added in a mixture of joking and not-joking. He leaned down against the arm rest and took the controller George handed to him, fumbling around with the buttons for a moment before the screen flickered as the game loaded up. “Huh, so it really was _Street Fighter_.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, no, I just kinda thought that...I guess I thought it was a game you’d have. Don’t have a reason as to _why_ I thought that, though.”

“You’re...weird, Dream,” George said, shaking his head a bit to wipe another smile off his face. “You’ll be fucked up after this game, though. When’s the last time you played again?”

Dream huffed and brushed a stray hair away from his eyes. “When was the last time I came over to your house?”

“Ah, right.”

George was pleased with his winning streak then, and maybe Dream had let him win a few rounds out of the kindness of his heart, but he also had to hand it to George—he had gotten a whole lot better. He wondered if he was practicing more for their matches. He bit back a smirk at the thought.

“Told you,” George shot a quick glance to his right at Dream, perched still to the far side of the couch, wetting his lips through the excitement he was struggling to hide, “I’m better than you! How many games was that?”

“Maybe one or two?” Dream piped up in feigned disappointment.

“I think it was...twenty,” George concluded despite not having kept track of any of the rounds they had played within the last few hours.

To the far right of the room, through a pair of sliding glass doors that led to George’s backyard, Dream could see the sky beginning to fade into a dark blue that mixed with purple and orange as the sun streaked behind the scenery at the horizon. “It’s getting late,” he said aloud, unconscious of the words slipping out.

“Dinner and then upstairs?”

Dream twisted back and met George’s gaze. “Sounds good,” he echoed from what the latter had said earlier.

George’s parents were sweet as always; they chatted amongst each other while making the food—apparently they were trying something new, but all Dream could make out from the pot on the stove was something that looked like if hash browns were made with assorted vegetables. Certainly didn’t smell bad, though.

It was the first time in a while Dream had eaten something aside from the three main food groups in his household: hamburgers, chicken, and pasta. He would be lying if he said he never got bored of looping between those three things, but with how much his parents worked they were usually stuck eating out or reheating frozen meals. A home cooked meal was nice for once.

“Ugh, I can’t eat another bite,” Dream groaned as George stuffed one last spoonful of rice into his mouth. “I think I’ll explode.”

“That’d be something,” George replied, standing to collect the plates and silverware he had used to wash off in the sink.

“You wanna see that, don’t you, asshole?”

“Let’s just say that if you _did_ happen to explode, I would not look away.”

“So mean!” Dream scoffed at his friend and followed after him, setting the dirty dishes into the soapy water. He lightly nudged George with an elbow, raising his eyebrows with a chuckle when he was met with a weak yelp. “You deserve that.”

“I probably do.”

George flicked off the light switch as they exited the room, waving their good-nights and sleep-wells to George’s parents now rather than later (after all, they would be going to sleep much earlier than the two boys). It was the second time Dream had almost slipped on the slick wooden stairs and fallen ass-first onto the ground below, but it was fine, he was all good, it was just his socks anyway, he could grip the railing like his life was on the line and it really could’ve been if he fell _just right_.

“Careful,” George said in a lighthearted mocking tone, shutting the door to his room behind him as Dream made his way further in. The latter rolled his eyes, but George pulled out a large and thick blanket from his closet to roll out into the floor. “I figured we can both sleep here on the floor since the bed isn’t big enough, and I’d feel bad sleeping there knowing you were on the floor.”

“Not gonna let me use the bed alone?” Dream chimed, cocking his head to the side playfully.

“No way, idiot. You know neither of us want you to do that anyway.” He wasn’t wrong.

Dream knelt down and lied flat on his stomach against the fuzzy blanket fabric. “Alright, fine,” he started, beckoning for George to grab the laptop and lie down beside him, “but hurry up, I’m already drifting off to sleep as you stand there.”

As George gathered up his laptop, the creaking of the wooden floorboards reached Dream’s ears once more; he didn’t mind it as much this time, though. It might’ve been because of his friend. He plopped down beside dream, pulling open the screen and nonchalantly tapping in the password. Dream caught the letters but stayed silent.

“What movie did you wanna watch?”

“Hmm, anything, really.” Dream shrugged and yawned a bit, consequently causing George’s jaw to slack open as well. “Goddammit,” he grumbled, running the side of his finger under his nostrils to quell an itch.

“I guess...I’ll just put on something from _Studio Ghibli_. Can’t go wrong there.”

Dream laughed. “Guess not,” he agreed.

He didn’t pay much attention as the animation started; honestly, he wasn’t really even watching it for any particular reason. It was more like background noise, just something to pass the time before they would both be passed out on the hard floor (though the blanket helped, there was still no hiding the harshness of the wood below).

“Can I?” George asked quietly, and Dream was met with his face closer than he would’ve liked; his heart caught in his throat for less than a second, and even he couldn’t tell if it was from the awkwardness of letting George rest his head on Dream’s shoulder or if it was that he was just so _nervous_ about doing it because he would be so close to George.

The former seemed like a more desirable option.

Even though Dream’s posture had stiffened now, George seemed to be doing fine; he didn’t dare lean his head any closer to check. He was finding it harder to focus on the movie now, animations blurring in his eyes as he breathed in and noted that George smelled like vanilla. It was probably his shampoo or something, but Dream only cared that it was a pleasant smell—it was a _George_ smell. 

He couldn’t tell how long he was frozen like a statue before George finally shifted off—it was an unconscious decision, lidded eyes told him, and he carefully rolled George onto his side.

In the dim lamp light of the room, Dream stared for a moment too long. He noticed that George had rather long eyelashes, that his skin looked smooth and well-cared for, and his lips— _ah, shit_. He shouldn’t go there.

But he stole a second glance anyway, pawning it off as a moment of curiosity and nothing more. He had never looked at a boy like that, anyway, and he was _almost_ flooded with the thrill of something that seemed _wrong_ but felt _right_ . Then, no, he _couldn’t_ feel “right” here—there was no “right” or “wrong” in this situation because George was his best friend. _Just_ his best friend.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Though he still couldn’t pry his eyes off of him. Dream carefully pulled away loose hairs from George’s eyes and barely— _just barely_ —traced his fingers down the boy’s cheek, pausing just before his lips. They looked soft— _inviting_ , _perhaps_ —and plump, a rosy shade of pink that matched his pale skin well.

And Dream thought he was cute.

He retracted himself from his friend and sat up, facing the opposite way. In a long moment of loud and confusing thoughts, he picked out the one that told him to find another blanket to cover them up with and followed it. The closet was a good start, and though he still felt bad about what could be considered snooping, he managed to find another smaller blanket for them to share. He draped it loosely over George’s petit body before sliding underneath it beside him.

It was warm. He was warm. George was warm.

Dream crossed his hands over his chest and focused on a bump in the ceiling while he collected himself; it wasn’t like this would all be solved within the hour, but it was the least he could do to _try_ and start figuring out just why he was finding himself wanting to get physically closer to his best friend.

He started with the possibility of being gay.

And then...he stopped there. Maybe he was too tired, or maybe he didn’t want to think about it then. He wasn’t too sure himself, but Dream clenched the end of the blanket until his knuckles turned white and quickly turned away from George, burying his face into the fabric with a silent groan.

After a quiet moment, only crickets chirping and wind blowing outside, he breathed out a low, “Good night, George,” and let the slumber claim him.


	2. Completely Incomplete

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi there- so yes i am continuing this! you’re welcome ❤️ 
> 
> but also i’d like to apologize if it seems rushed or awkward near the end of this chapter, i was trying not to let it drag on for too long lmao
> 
> oh and also- basically everything after chapter 1 is (for the most part) fictional since i figured it would be better that way! this initially was kinda a vent piece uhhh but now it’s just a story. i’m taking stuff from my own experiences but other than chapter 1, nothing is exactly how things happened to me and is most likely completely fabricated.
> 
> i’d love any comments or feedback you have too! thx sm!!

He was probably going crazy. That seemed like it, at least. Dream scratched the side of his head with the rubbery-eraser end of his pencil as he gnawed at his bottom lip. Could he even tell anyone about this? His mind wandered to the possibility of spilling everything to Sapnap, but then halted as a knot formed in his gut.

Would Sapnap even be okay with that? Was it even normal to think about his best friend like that, let alone another boy? He could only recall joking about girls with Sapnap—well, it made sense that way, at least. But what about boys? Was that okay? Dream bit back a frustrated grumble. He didn’t have a clue.

Before he knew it, the bell sounded throughout the room and students were scrambling out of their seats in attempts to beat the hallway traffic. Dream sighed and took his time, slipping his notebook back to its rightful place inside his backpack before exiting after everyone else. His legs felt heavier than usual.

“You alright, man? You took longer today.”

Dream’s eyes flicked upwards at the sound of Sapnap’s voice. He stood against the lockers beside the door frame, where he usually waited for Dream after their last class; the latter instinctively tightened his grip on one strap of his backpack. Sapnap was probably the last person he wanted to see now, aside from George, that is.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Dream spread a grin over his face to conceal the thoughts that were eating away at him inside; he found it a little too easy to play off. “I totally spaced out and forgot to pack up early.”

“Oh yeah, I understand that!” Sapnap burst into laughter and slung his arm around Dream’s shoulders, tugging him against his side. “By the way, are you gonna come hang with me and George after school today? We’re gonna be at my place.”

Dream paused, a burning sensation clawing up the back of his throat, then answered carefully, “You _and_ George? I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it.”

“ _You_ —!” Sapnap playfully ground his knuckles into the top of Dream’s head until the blond was shoving him away by the face. “Is that a yes then?”

“Yes, fine! Just don’t ever do that again, ugh.”

“Party pooper,” Sapnap noted under his breath. Dream sent him a sideways glance. The former gave a small wave as he dipped into the classroom they passed, leaving Dream alone to journey the rest of the way to his own class; he almost boiled over again in the overlapping voices which seemed just as deafeningly silent as they were loud, but managed to shove his problems down into himself for the rest of the day.

Now he just had to figure out how not to rot away while he was with George and Sapnap.

The three of them met up just outside the front entrance, Dream leaning up against one of the large concrete pillars that held up the overhang; he unconsciously twirled one finger around the tassels of his hoodie.

“You’re late,” he spoke up when Sapnap and George came over, standing side-by-side. His heart hammered loudly in his chest and he glanced away as if that would do anything to silence it.

Sapnap’s eyes squinted as he let out a lighthearted chuckle, slapping one hand over the top of George’s backpack since it was covering his back. “This idiot over here had to talk to his teacher or something, so I had to wait for his ass.”

“ _She_ called _me_!” George clarified, crossing his arms. His bottom lip quivered slightly in a pout, and a smile spread across Dream’s own lips as he watched the two spiral into their usual nonsensical bickering; even if things were more boisterous with Sapnap around, Dream did feel like it was more relaxed—maybe it was just him.

“Whatever, guys, let’s just go. I’m sure your mom’s dying to see us, Sap.”

“Woah, hold up, that’s my _mom_ , dude!”

“Ew, Sapnap—!” George covered his mouth as he began to laugh again, suddenly losing all motivation to argue with him anymore. “He didn’t mean it like _that_!”

“Well, he didn’t have to say it like that either!”

“Like what?” Dream raised an eyebrow and shoved his arm against Sapnap’s side. The younger groaned and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“You’re lucky we’re all walking together, otherwise I would’ve had to cancel today’s hangout.” Sapnap rolled his eyes and lifted his head to stare up at the sky; Dream, curious, followed his gaze before glancing back at George. For a moment he seemed upset, but the expression passed as soon as Dream noticed it. He slowed his pace to walk beside him, leaving Sapnap alone further up.

“You alright?”

George flicked his gaze over to Dream and their eyes met for less than a second before he looked to the front again. “Yeah, I’m fine, dude. Shouldn’t you be more concerned about Sapnap and his dirty mind? He might never get it out of the gutter without any help,” he joked.

Dream chuckled, his chest rising with the feeling of a sort of emptiness—it wasn’t a bad feeling, rather it felt like he was weightless and breathing clouds into his lungs. “That’s true, he’s kinda fuckin’ gross. _I’m_ not even that bad.”

“You two are really just gonna badmouth me like that?!” Sapnap turned on his heel, scrunching up his nose at the other two whilst walking backwards. “Talk about biting the hand that feeds you.”

“Feeds us what, exactly? Stupidity?”

Signature bickering started up again between their group, though it still focused mostly on Sapnap and George spitting lighthearted insults between the two of them; Dream found his thoughts drifting away from him for a while, at least that was until he stepped through Sapnap’s front door.

He couldn’t pinpoint what was so off-putting, but his head began to spin and he had to steady himself with one hand gripping Sapnap’s shoulder. Neither of them said a word, but Dream could tell that the former was worried about him, even a little. Not like Dream would’ve been honest, anyway.

He could barely even be honest with himself.

“Shoes off,” Sapnap reminded them, kicking off his own at the front mat. He switched the lock behind him as the door shut and then watched the others slip off their shoes as well before following him up the stairs and around the corner into his room; they were met with a few friendly ‘hello’s and ‘how are you’s from his parents as they followed each other in a line.

Dream traced his fingertips lightly against the door as he walked past, noting the appearance of another random trophy on the bookcase to the right of the entrance. He hummed and grinned to himself, silently reminding himself to ask, and/or mock, Sapnap about that later.

“I’m so tired,” George complained, immediately heading over to flop himself backwards into Sapnap’s bed; there was little protest from the younger at this point, with how long they’ve known each other and all. “Don’t even think about mentioning the homework from today either, Dream,” he added quickly, “because you know _none_ of us are going to work on it anyway.”

“Got me there,” Dream said fondly. He gripped the back of Sapnap’s desk chair and spun it around to have a seat, leaning forward against his thighs.

“Oh yeah,” Sapnap spoke up as he sat back on the bed next to George and placed his palms down behind him for support, “big news, by the way.”

George cocked his head to the side while Dream bit back a sarcastic comment; even if Sapnap sounded proud as all hell, he also seemed serious so it wasn’t like he was going to try and tease him. Not right away, at least.

“What is it?”

“I got a girlfriend recently.”

Dream nearly choked on his inhale. “ _What_? _You_?”

“Jeez, don’t sound so happy for me, Dream!”

“No, no,” Dream shook his head quickly after catching his breath and smothering a wheezed laugh back into his chest, “that’s not it, I just—I dunno, I just never really thought about _any_ of us getting girlfriends?”

Sapnap blinked curiously at the older boy. “ _Really_?” He asked, pure confusion dripping off the word; Dream couldn’t stop himself from faltering a bit at the tone. “Don’t tell me you’re not interested in dating at all, dude.”

“Well, I dunno?” Dream shrugged and glanced away; there was no fucking way he was going to spill the beans about whatever the hell was going on in his mind about George, _especially_ not now while he was right there in the room with them—sure, Dream thought he was cute as hell, but did that mean he wanted to _date_ him? Who knows. “I just never really focused on it?”

“No way,” George interjected, flipping himself over to curl onto his side. “Like, not even once? But there’s so many pretty girls at our school!”

 _Boys too_.

“I don’t disagree with that, you know.” Dream laughed awkwardly, wringing his hands around each other at the feeling of his two friends staring holes into his skin. “I’ve just never...wanted to go out with anyone, maybe. It’s not like I’ve never thought anyone wasn’t pretty or attractive or whatever,” he sputtered, almost shamefully.

“That’s such a you thing to say, Dream,” George followed, laughing softly as he draped an arm over his forehead. “You’ll be stuck with us forever if you don’t get yourself a girlfriend sometime soon.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Dream replied, against his better judgement. It was too late to take it back, but he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding when George and Sapnap both burst into fits of idiotic giggles.

This was nice—this is the feeling that Dream wanted to hold onto so badly. Maybe he was afraid of the changes that would come with how he stopped and stared at George, taking in every inch of his beauty and letting it sit within him until it stirred itself around and could no longer be separated; no, that was _definitely_ what he was afraid of.

George was everything—talented, funny, kind, and god knows Dream thought he looked like an angel that had tumbled down to earth all the way from the heavens. And he knew he couldn’t think of Sapnap like that; sure, he was Dream’s best friend and the older boy knew that he wouldn’t be where he was without that snarky right-hand man of his, but something was fundamentally different. George made Dream’s heart skip a beat, made his breath catch in his throat, made his head all fuzzy as he hung off every word the Brit said.

Sapnap couldn’t do that to him.

“Well, speaking of,” Sapnap resumed after wiping away a few budding tears from the corners of his eyes, “what about you, George? We both know Dream would be shit at flirting with girls, whether he wanted to date them or not.”

“ _Hey_ —!”

“Me?” George grinned, knowingly ignoring the younger as he sat up on the bed; he crossed his legs over one another and thoughtfully tapped his forefinger against his chin. “I dunno, I guess there is a girl in my science class. I’m not sure yet, though, since we’ve only really been talking as friends.”

Dream’s heart dropped. “Who…?” He asked tentatively, straining his voice to get the question out to the point where he was almost positive they noticed his sudden and immediate shift in attitude. It was painful.

“Er, I don’t know if I should say.”

“Oh, _come on_ , Georgie! We could be your wingman or some shit!” Sapnap slapped his hand onto George’s shoulder, posture and expression roaring at the older to spill every little detail; Dream was trembling, though he believed they were both too preoccupied to notice, and for that he silently thanked whatever god could possibly be shielding him from such guilt.

George swatted his hand off with a lighthearted groan and leaned back, only for Sapnap to lean closer. “Fine, but back up first, will you?! And don’t call me ‘Georgie’.” The younger did as he was told, eyes still burning with curiosity. “Her name’s Maia.”

“Maia?” Sapnap echoed, seemingly wracking his brain for whatever mental list he had kept in there of all the students attending their high school. “Doesn’t ring a bell,” he finally stated after a moment of silence.

“She just transferred this year. She’s a junior too, so I can’t imagine how tough that might be for her,” George clarified, covering his mouth for an oncoming yawn.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, why?”

Dream blinked a few times, pulling himself together after a moment. “I don’t think she’s in any of my classes, otherwise I would’ve seen her,” he commented after Sapnap’s gaze landed on him; even without the other boy saying anything, he was sure they would be curious—or suspicious, at worst. But they didn’t have a reason to be, did they?

“Maybe she’s just super smart. Like you, George!”

“I’m nothing special, though. It’s just mandatory classes, mostly.”

Sapnap shrugged and waved one hand around dramatically, twirling a finger through the air. “I guess so. I’ll be sure to take lots of advanced classes so I can beat you in the brain department, though, so you better focus on getting into a _really_ good college.”

George froze; Dream swallowed the dryness building up in his throat.

“A-ah, right,” Sapnap mumbled awkwardly, retracting into himself as his hands interlocked below his knees. “Sorry, guys.”

Dream glanced between George and Sapnap; he said nothing—what was there to say? They knew that George would be leaving for college one day, and then Dream would follow suit just one year after that. It was inevitable.

“It’s alright, man,” Dream finally breathed, his voice sounding lower than a whisper, but more tired. He wasn’t as shaken up as before, though the air was tense. “We just—”

“We can’t ignore it forever,” George muttered, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. “We can’t. If this is bothering you guys so much, shouldn’t we talk it out? I feel like a shitty friend leaving you guys behind. It fucking sucks.”

“George...it’s not your fault—”

“ _I know_. I know it isn’t, but don’t you both at least feel like it’s unfair? Even I do.”

Dream sighed softly and stood, making his way over to plop down on the bed between the two. “Isn’t the school you want to go to right downtown?”

The older boy stared at him for a moment, cheeks turning pink. “Wha—how did you…?”

“My mom just _loves_ yours, you know? And it is unfair. Not the bullshit about our ages or whatever,” Dream placed his palm gently against George’s knee and gave him a tender smile, “but about _that_ , right?”

“What?”

George bit his lip and turned his head away. “Y-yeah. You’re right. It’s pure bullshit, that’s what. I don’t even want to go to that stupid prestigious college in England. My parents picked it out for me.”

“They want you to move back?” Sapnap asked stupidly.

“It _sucks_. I just want to stay here, with you guys, and go to some run-of-the-mill community college. Isn’t that dumb?” He inhaled, slow and steady, squeezing his eyes shut to prevent himself from crying. Dream’s chest tightened and he instinctively grabbed the Brit’s hand, clasping it between his palms.

“It’s _not_ dumb, George. We both want the same thing. We want to stay together forever, just the three of us, until we’re all old and our skin sags to the floor and we can barely stand up.”

“Maybe not that long.”

Dream jammed his elbow backwards into Sapnap’s gut, a loud cry of pain emitting in return.

“What the _hell_ , man?!”

“Not now, Sap!” Dream scolded, glaring at the other boy. Though when his head snapped back, George was grinning and laughter was bubbling up inside him until he was doubled over, clutching the signature neon green hoodie of his friend and pressing his face into Dream’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” he whispered after the fit died down. “Thank you both, really.”

Dream let his arms wrap around George, and soon enough Sapnap squirmed behind them to join in. “There’s no need to thank us, idiot. We’re here for you.”

“Yeah, what Dream said!”

“Get your own words of comfort, dumbass.” Dream snorted another laugh out, watching as Sapnap pulled away to frown and whine at them.

“Why do you guys always bully _me_?!”

Dream silently, with a smirk directed towards Sapnap, added this to the list of things he would figure out later. It couldn’t be that hard, not if he had the two of them beside him.


	3. The Moment of Truth in Your Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya boy back at it with another update of questionable quality 😎✊ it’ll probably lean more on the actual romantic feelings from here on out unless i become a fucking idiot and stretch it out more but heads up for that anyway lmfao

_“Dream.”_

_The blond boy turned his gaze towards the sound, meeting a galaxy within brown eyes; he would’ve gasped had he not jumped straight into holding his breath._

_George stood in front of him, closer than they had ever stood together before. Dream opened his mouth to speak, but found himself speechless when the older boy grabbed his hands and wrapped their fingers around each other._

_“Is this okay?” George asked breathlessly, as if he were mimicking the feeling within Dream’s lungs._

_“It...is,” Dream answered hesitantly, eyes skimming down from George’s rosy cheeks to their clasped hands; it felt so real. Was this real? He couldn’t remember. Maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe it didn’t matter._

_“And,” The Brit’s voice softened, leaning up closer on his toes, their faces only inches apart now, “how about this…?”_

_Dream’s eyes fell shut just as they snapped open._

The ceiling was bright in the morning light and he recoiled at the severity, squinting under the shade of a hand that shielded him. A groan fell from his mouth as Dream sat up in his bed, the back of his palm sliding across his forehead to remove the cold beads of sweat.

He didn’t want to think about that, but maybe he was being forced to.

 _New plan, screw whatever god is out there_ , he noted to himself.

The room was cold; Dream’s eyes wandered over to a fluttering curtain and the mystery was solved. If an open window was the cause of his inner turmoil that night, he might just go right ahead and bury himself six feet under right then and there. What a pathetic reason to think about almost kissing your best friend.

 _Best friend_.

The words echoed. He paid no mind.

He pulled on a lazy outfit, which only consisted of the same pair of jeans from yesterday with a different-colored hoodie of the same style, and headed out the front door. Leaving a note on the dining room table after snatching a cold slice of pizza to eat on the way to school was sufficient enough.

“Did you guys hear from Bad?” Sapnap suddenly asked at lunch, nudging around a few tater tots on his tray.

“No, what happened?” Dream scrunched his nose. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s fine. I was just...curious, I guess.”

Dream waited a moment, expecting him to continue, only to be met with silence. “What, so you’re not gonna tell us?”

“I don’t, uh, think I should be the one to tell you,” Sapnap clarified whilst stabbing his fork into one of the room-temperature tater tots and popping it into his mouth. 

George leaned over against the palm of his hand, munching lazily on the straw of his milk carton. “Well, if he’s alright I guess it shouldn’t matter that much,” he mumbled. Dream glanced over to share a look of curiosity nonetheless, though couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes for more than a second. The older was left in silent confusion, now for more than one reason.

“Anyway,” Sapnap cleared his throat and tapped his fingers against the side of the table, “could you help me with my math homework later, Georgie? Since you’re like, super smart with numbers and all that shit.”

“I said not to call me that,” George snapped. He rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh; even if they argued a lot, he knew Sapnap would just pester him until he said yes anyway. “Fine. We can hang out in the library after school today. You up for it, Dream?”

The younger winced at the sound of his name off George’s lips, flashes of the strange dream (he wondered if he could allow himself to call it a nightmare) from that morning returning to his mind. “No, uh, yeah, I’m cool,” he sputtered in a rather uncool manner. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, god.” It was stupid to ask in the first place.

“Right. Then another epic adventure for Sapnap and Co. after school!”

“Who said you could call us that?” George scoffed and flicked a stray tater tot off his tray towards Sapnap. “If anything, _I’m_ the leader here. We should be George and Co. or...something.”

“You don’t even have a name!” Sapnap refuted, flicking the tater tot back. 

Dream sighed and waved his hand between the two of them. “Foul,” he stated, grinning at them.

“My ass,” Sapnap replied snarkily.

Dream noticed that the rest of the day flew by, with the special treat of having picked out George from the flood of students multiple times between classes (each of which they exchanged waves and Dream could’ve sworn his heart hammered so hard against his ribs that they were going to snap in half). After the last bell rung, he was more eager than before to meet up with the other two, slinging his backpack over his shoulder while booking it out the door. The scolding of his teacher was distant in his mind.

The blond pushed past other kids as they crammed their way out the front doors, though Dream probably wasn’t as desperate as the rest since he would only be waiting for his friends again, standing solo in his spot against the large, concrete pillar.

“Dream!” A voice called out and before Dream could even turn his head, a scrawny body flew up at him and arms wrapped themselves around him by the neck. “Oh, you big muffin, we haven’t hung out in forever!”

Dream blinked. “B-Bad?”

“Yes, Bad! Who else?” Bad pulled back and beamed at Dream, who was seemingly processing the situation; it was oddly convenient for him to show up now, especially after what Sapnap had said at lunch. He brushed it off, simply assuming that the younger had invited him along to their little study session.

“Sorry, sorry! I thought you were busy with Skeppy lately?” Dream laughed and folded his arms across his chest. “You’ve had barely any time for us lately,” he teased.

Bad’s lips shifted into a frown. “Geppy’s on vacation for a while with his parents,” he muttered in something reminiscent of bitterness (strange for Bad—scary, even). “He didn’t even tell me until he had already left.”

Dream hummed, tugging Bad into another hug while giving him a pat on the back to comfort him. “Sorry about that, dude. Maybe he just forgot? You know him better than I do, though.” He pulled away and smiled a bit softer this time. “Did Sapnap invite you with us?”

“Sapnap? No, why?”

“Oh, I just figured...nothing.” Dream shook his head slightly and then glanced back towards the school doors, which still held multiple students pushing and shoving their way through. “You wanna come, then? We’re headed to the library to study—me, him, and George, that is. We could use our last Muffinteer.”

Bad gasped, louder than he probably should’ve, and frantically waved his hands while resisting the urge to sweep Dream up in a third hug. “Yes! Yes, yes, muffins yes! It’s been forever since I’ve seen George too—when I talked with Sapnap, he just went _on and on_ about both of you. Well, mostly just that you were idiots, but I told him off about that, of course!”

Dream chuckled and placed a hand on Bad’s shoulder. “Alright, cool, but don’t have too much school spirit here. They’ll figure out that you’re the rival. Dead meat, you know?”

“Wh—oh muffin, I didn’t even think of that! Hold on,” the older grumbled and leaned down, folding the tops of his socks over to hide the bright red logo of his own high school that was imprinted on them. “There! Problem solved.”

“Yeah, that oughta do it.” Dream chuckled, almost jumping backwards when Sapnap slapped his hand down on his shoulder.

“Boo! Did I get you?!”

“Fuck off,” Dream uttered, fingers tightening around the side of his sleeve.

“Language!”

“Bad?” George peaked his head around Sapnap’s build, expression changing to excitement within mere seconds of seeing his friend’s face. “Oh my god, Bad! I missed you!” He rushed over and tackled the boy in a hug, to which caused Dream’s chest to flash with pain once more. It was just Bad. _It was just Bad_.

“Gogy!” Bad squealed and draped his arms around George’s back, giving him a tight hug in return; from one glance their way, you’d think the brunet loved getting hugs from anyone and everyone, but really he froze up unless it was one of his closest friends. It was kinda amusing, in all honesty. “Aww, I’m so glad we’re all here again! The four Muffinteers are back together!”

“It’s only been a few months, though,” Dream noted, placing a hand on his hip as Bad and George pulled away from each other.

“That’s way too long!”

“Yeah, Dream, don’t be an asshole.”

“Sapnap! Language!” Bad snapped again, though everyone just laughed at his frustration. He grumbled before Sapnap’s arm snaked around his neck—apparently he was very touchy-feely.

“Boohoo, no big deal, Bad! We gonna get going or what? I, for one, don’t like staying at school longer than I have to.” He shot a look over towards George and smirked at him; the Brit said nothing, but glared back.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get going already.”

Though he found it a bit strange how Bad stuck to Sapnap’s side for the most of their walk, Dream couldn’t complain since he was, for the most part, receiving all of George’s attention; maybe it was selfish of him to think that. George could’ve talked about anything in the world at any moment and would still be the most beautiful thing to Dream—although he hated himself for thinking such things, the blond found his thoughts wandering despite himself. Only god knew whatever George was rambling about then, since Dream wasn’t hearing a word of it. Each word reached his ears individually, but he was so busy focusing on how soft and sweet the older boy’s voice sounded that all he had to say was a variety of ‘yeah’, ‘mhm’, and ‘really?’.

“Ah—” George gasped as his foot caught on the indent of the sidewalk and Dream quickly reached out to catch him. Flustered, the former averted his gaze and apologized, cheeks burning red.

Dream brushed it off as embarrassment, though he couldn’t help grinning just a little at it— _cute_.

“God, quit flirting back there,” Sapnap groaned, making a retching motion with his hands pointing into his mouth. The gesture was harmless in essence and Dream knew it was a joke, but some part of him felt awkward and grossed out with himself; did Sapnap really believe it was gross? He was just joking, right?

He glanced over at George, who’s eyebrows were knit together in the middle of his forehead, already calling Sapnap out for being a hypocrite when Bad was clinging onto him like a lost puppy; needless to say, both of them were embarrassed and Sapnap shut up instantly.

At least until they arrived at the library and scrambled into the designated teenager area that nearly every public library has; the only real reason they’re used at all is the presence of computers and, luckily for them, a game console.

“Sapnap, don’t tell me you’re not actually planning on studying,” George said as he watched the younger set his bag onto one of the firm-yet-puffy chairs seated in front of the game console.

“Just one round of _Smash Bros_ , I promise.”

“One round will turn into ten and then we’ll be here all night.”

“You’re boring as hell.”

“I am _not_ boring!” George scoffed and tossed his bag beside Sapnap’s, falling into the seat beside him. “Fine. One game. _Only_ one game.”

Sapnap smirked, sliding the disc into the slot. “You’re on.”

Dream shared a look with Bad before the two of them reluctantly seated themselves in the chairs behind George and Sapnap. “Figures we’d end up here,” the blond stated with a laugh.

“Well, they’re having fun. I’ll work on homework first anyway,” Bad smiled at Dream, “‘cause I’m a good muffin.”

“That you are, Bad, that you are.”

Dream watched the game screen for a moment longer before pulling out a mess of papers from his own backpack; that was what they were here for, anyway, so he might as well start on the hundreds of assignments he’d been putting off until the last minute. His eyes scanned over a sheet that looked to be a rubric, large font printed atop the page: **Write an essay on any controversial topic of your choice.**

 _An essay, huh_ , he thought. He gnawed at his bottom lip, a pit growing in his stomach—would this be a good opportunity to learn more about...same-sex couples and shit? That seemed controversial enough. That’s what the twisting pain in his chest was telling him, anyway.

“Hey, uh, Bad?” Dream glanced up hesitantly at the older boy across from him, meeting his gaze behind the frames of glass.

“Hm?”

“What...um, I—sorry,” He combed a hand through his bangs and pulled them back, suddenly finding his eyes glued to the floor. “What are your thoughts on—on same-sex couples…?”

They fell silent, the effects of the game and the bickering of their friend settling into the foreground.

“Dream, are you—”

“It’s for an essay!” He shouted quickly, not realizing how loud he had gotten. Dream’s face flushed dark red and he pulled the hoodie down over his face. “Fuck, I—I’m sorry.”

Sapnap and George both had looked back at them now, confused and surprised at his outburst, but the former was the first to speak.

“Dude, you okay?”

 _No_. 

“Uh, I’m just…gonna go to the bathroom.”

“Dream, wait—!” Bad called after him, but the younger was already down the hall. He was sweating bullets and, frankly, he wondered why he even asked at all. The pit in his stomach was only growing and it wasn’t hard to tell that he was shaken up; even his hands were trembling as he swung the bathroom door open and locked himself in a stall.

“Dream?”

Dream flinched. “Bad?” He asked slowly; just why did he follow him in here anyway? He needed a moment to catch his breath—he was a complete fool and nothing less than that.

“Dream, at least come out of the stall, you muffin head.”

He wanted to protest, but it wasn’t like Bad was going to just leave him in there. If he wanted to have at least _some_ dignity (if anyone had walked in, he would’ve died instantly, but thankfully nobody seemed to use this bathroom often), he would leave. So he did. “Sorry. About that,” he grumbled.

“Dream. Can I tell you something?” Bad leaned back against the sink counter; this wasn’t the ideal place for this conversation, but at least it was clean. Probably because it went fairly unused.

“Of—of course. You can tell me anything, Bad.”

Bad smiled softly. “I’m bisexual, Dream. That means...well, even I didn’t know at first and had to look up a whole bunch of things, but it basically means that I’m attracted to anyone. Boys or girls. I sound pretty smart, right?”

Dream stared at him for a moment. “Bisexual? And Sapnap...?” He repeated in quiet confusion. “Wait, so you—?”

“Yep,” Bad answered before he could finish. “I struggled a lot too, you know. Actually, I only told Sapnap a few days ago, too. I was gonna come out to everyone when it felt right, but...I think you needed to hear this. Am I wrong?”

“That—I don’t...really know.”

“It’s alright, Dream.” Bad reached out and clasped one of Dream’s hands between his own. “That freak-out was a little obvious, though. Even _I_ could figure that out.”

“Oh god, did I really just—?”

“You did.”

“ _Shit_ …!” Dream squeezed his eyes shut for fear of crying. In a public bathroom, no less. “God, I—I must look like an idiot right now.”

“Language,” Bad reminded before giving him a pat on the head; he had to reach a little, but that was okay. “Dream. Only you know what you’re feeling, okay? And if I have to say anything...I think all love is a beautiful thing. I don’t think you have to worry about a person’s gender. Is that good enough for your essay?”

Dream laughed weakly and gave Bad’s hand a gentle squeeze—some form of his inaudible appreciation. “Yeah, I think that’s just fine. You’ll be open to any follow up questions I have, though, right?”

“Don’t be silly, I always am. Now let’s go back, okay?”

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> player badboyhalo joined your party!! gotta love that little muffin-


	4. Keep the Calm Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have returned after a while for another update lmfao- this one’s a bit shorter and kinda rushed bc i just wanna move onto writing the next chapter so sorry if it kinda sucks lol

“Uh, what’s all this?” Dream stared at George and Sapnap as he gestured to the mound of chip bags and candy bars piled onto the table.

“Snacks, duh,” Sapnap responded nonchalantly. “We got them after I beat George’s ass—figured he could use a consolation prize. That...and other things.” He shrugged.

“You fucking suck.”

“Shut up, Georgie, you’re just mad.”

Dream sighed and slumped down into the chair beside George. He smiled at all three of his friends while Bad reprimanded them for the nth time that afternoon, looking somewhere between appreciative and exhausted. “You two are idiots.”

George laughed and leaned back to bump shoulders with Dream. His heart skipped a beat. “Well, Sapnap is. You sure you’re alright, though?”

“I am now.”

“Um,” Bad spoke up (he had gotten frustrated at being ignored during his scolding session), clasping his hands together while shifting awkwardly in his seat, “can I actually say something? I, uh, kinda already told Sapnap and Dream, so...George?”

“Huh? Yeah?” George tilted his head to the side as he watched Bad. 

“I just—I wanted to let you know I’m bisexual. This is kinda…an awkward coming out, but one thing led to another, so…” Bad trailed off, lips puckered into a slight pout as his forefingers looped around each other. “Like, I don’t really care...about the person’s gender.”

“Oh,” George said simply. Stupidly. “Well—that’s cool, dude! Good for you. Feels a little awkward being the last one to know, though.”

“Sorry about that.”

“No worries.” George snickered lightheartedly, waving Bad off right away so he wouldn’t be too worried about it. “Good to know we’re all caught up and whatnot. Like...the openness?”

“Do you even know what you’re saying?” Sapnap questioned, raising one eyebrow.

“Listen, I’ve never had anyone come out to me before!” The older whined. He crossed his arms over his chest and exhaled an annoyed groan. “I don’t know what to say and what not to say!”

“It’s fine, George!” Bad laughed, leaning forward against his knees. “It just means a lot knowing you guys all support me.”

Although he felt like jumping in naturally at any moment, Dream kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t sure why, though it was probably because he was terrified of saying something unnecessary. Or maybe he felt like saying something would take away from Bad’s coming out?

Not that Dream was gay or anything. Probably. Maybe. He just thought George was cute. It was only George.

“You guys wanna actually get started on some work now?” George asked, though it really wasn’t a question—that much was certain from the glare he shot Sapnap’s way. The other boy stuck his tongue out playfully.

“Yeah, I could use the time. I’ve got a lot to think about,” Dream mumbled, leaning to the side against his chair. Bad smiled at him in a sort of mature and knowing way, but the blond shook it off with a chuckle. Of course it would be Bad of all people who would be consoling him like that. Asshole, acting all ‘proud dad’ on him.

Time passed slower than he had hoped, but Dream felt like it wasn’t a bad thing; even if the homework was time-consuming and annoying as all hell, the company made it a million times better. He was able to dig out a big portion of that paper too, even if it was mostly just lots and lots of research about the history of gay couples and gay marriage.

And one thing he noted was that it wasn’t weird or strange— _it never was_. Those people were happy and in love, but society was the big bad wolf who tore down that happiness and shamed them. He stole a glance towards his friends, still playing around in between every five seconds of work they would finish. Dream smiled.

He was damn lucky to have friends that would accept something others might choose to put down. Bad, too—he was just as brave as he was lucky. It must’ve been hell for him, too, trying to figure out who he was and why he wasn’t _normal_. What a shitty word.

“Hey, Bad?” Dream whispered, leaning over to gently poke a finger into his friend’s side. “I think you’re really fuckin’ cool.”

Bad’s eyebrows squished together and he opened his mouth to object to the other’s cussing, but his expression softened when he realized just what that meant. “Oh, stop it, you muffin. I’m not as cool as the rest of you guys.”

“You’re _cooler_ ,” the younger added, his smile widening at the change of expression on Bad’s face; he was always fun to mess around with, especially when he got so flustered.

“Woah there Dream,” Sapnap interjected, tugging Bad into his chest, “you trying to steal my boytoy or something?”

“Dude, I’m totally telling your girlfriend.”

“Not like you know her, anyway.”

“I bet she doesn’t exist,” George chimed in, chuckling as he watched Bad struggle away from Sapnap only to be pulled back into his arms.

Dream snorted and choked back a louder laugh; that didn’t sound too far off for Sapnap. Maybe he finally had it and just decided to make one up for his own sake. “She goes to another school or something?” He asked between silent giggles.

“You guys _suck_!”

Dream burst into laughter as Sapnap pressed his face into an unwilling Bad’s hair. He held his gut, wheezing and choking out breaths; it wasn’t even that funny, but something about _now_ felt different. The air felt lighter in a way. Like home, maybe.

The night ended as any dumb teenage boy hangout would: dumb jokes and insults before they all took their separate routes home. 

There was a lot to think about. Well, at least there was for Dream. He thought about a lot—he thought about his friends, his homework, everything he learned. He thought about Bad and what he might’ve had to go through before coming out; it wasn’t like their school was very LGBT friendly anyway.

He thought about that too—he never thought about that before. He wondered if Bad thought they would be like that—intolerant and unsupportive. It was no wonder Sapnap seemed uneasy that day at lunch. 

“I’m home,” he grumbled after shutting the front door behind him. Silence returned his greeting as usual, alongside the darkness of the house. His brain hurt more than it did every other day, only this time he couldn’t just pass out right away and forget everything until the morning. Until he had another distraction.

Dream dragged out a sigh. Everything was the same, so why was he different? Why was he changing? Maybe this is how Bad felt. Then what, was he really gay? He couldn’t recall ever feeling like this towards _anyone_ , boy or girl. 

He resisted the urge to slam his bedroom door behind him; even with an empty house, the fear of punishment lingered. A soft click emitted behind him and he moved over onto his bed. His hands felt heavy over his chest as he leaned back into the pillow; the ceiling was still bright—brighter than the rest of the house. It seemed to glow, almost.

Maybe he really _did_ like George. Maybe he even _loved_ him. Would it be okay to acknowledge that?


	5. A Heavy Dose of Atmosphere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these just keep getting worse and worse as i write them, sorry-
> 
> i’m not good at drawing out how i want things to go lol it just ends up clunky, but i can’t be bothered to beta this anyway so here it is :)

“You sure are glued to your phone.”

George glanced up, albeit hesitantly, at the sound of a voice and scooting of the lab stool beside him. “What?” He asked, grinning a bit when he recognized the person as Maia, the friend he had talked about to Dream and Sapnap a few days before. 

“What’s so interesting?” She asked, leaning over as if she was going to pluck the phone right out of his hands. He instinctively pulled back and scoffed.

“Nothing really.”

“Sounds like a lie to me.”

“Why’s that?”

“You were smirking like an idiot.”

George flinched and snapped his gaze downwards as if it would hide his growing blush. “W-was I really?” He asked nervously, voice softer than he expected it to come out.

Maia laughed and leaned against her elbow. “Totally. Someone catch your eye?”

“No way!” George gasped when he raised his voice too much and slapped a hand over his mouth. He sighed heavily, sliding his phone in his pocket and fiddling with the edge of the worksheet they were supposed to be working on. Not like he or the teacher cared much if they did it, though. “God, I’m sorry, I—you surprised me.”

“Did I?” Maia leaned back a bit and cracked her fingers over each other. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Isn’t that a bold thing to ask someone you’ve known for less than a few weeks?”

“Maybe.” Maia grinned; she seemed to like talking to him and George wasn’t upset with that. Frankly, he was even a little thankful that they had gotten along so well so quickly—he really didn’t know anyone else in this class and she was smart enough to help out with his portion of the work too. He should probably pay more attention in class. “So, you gonna spill or what?”

“Ugh, fine,” George muttered, rolling a finger back and forth across a stray pencil on the table. “I was texting my friend, Dream. We were just talking about some stupid shit, I probably subconsciously smiled at something funny.”

“Oh, I see!” Maia nodded, though the look on her face said she wasn’t buying it one bit. “Can I meet him? And that, uh, what was it? Sapnap? I think that’s right. Him too.”

George stared at her for a moment; that might be fine, but he could see Dream and Sapnap being weird about him bringing a girl for them to meet. In their own odd ways, of course. That might be bad.

“Uh, I’ll ask them about it.”

“Now?”

The Brit winced. Well, there was no way getting out of that one, especially when she was weighing him down with such a faux-innocent smile while knowing he was clearly capable of texting them right that moment. He let out a groan of defeat and pulled his phone out of his pocket once more.

It was a simple and quick message: “Hey, you remember that girl Maia? She wants to meet you guys.” 

Dream, on the other side of the entire school, watched the message flash up as a notification on his screen. He scrunched his nose a bit, whether out of confusion or jealousy was unknown to him, and tapped out another simple response.

“That’s a bit sudden.”

“I guess, but she’s right next to me and keeps asking.”

Dream huffed and nudged Sapnap beside him. “Say something,” he whispered, a bit harsher than intended. “I don’t really care to meet her but...y’know.”

Sapnap winced in pain and frowned. He sat up, twisting a few cracks out of his spine before mumbling, “Dude, I don’t know. Maybe she’s his girlfriend or something so she’s, like, trying to get on our good side.”

“George would’ve told us if he was dating someone,” the blond stated, fast and confident. _Too_ confident, maybe.

“It’s a gamble with him, bro. He’s not as tight as we are.” Sapnap chuckled a little and leaned back down on his desk, resting his cheek over his arm; it was clear he had no intention of replying to George.

“Fucker,” Dream hissed before finally replying again to his other friend.

He really didn’t want to. _Really_ didn’t. As much as he hated to admit it, Sapnap was right. George wasn’t exactly a wild card, but he certainly was the type to hide a girlfriend from them until said girlfriend was comfortable. That’s just who he was.

“Fine.”

The younger hadn’t meant the message to sound so dry and devoid of emotions, but there was no taking it back now. It already had been stamped with the time, indicating that George had read it. There was no bubble with three dots popping up, though, so he figured their conversation would be left there. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

He couldn’t tell if the churning of his stomach was from a lack of lunch or discomfort in meeting his best-friend-turned-crush’s potential girlfriend. What a mouthful. _Shit_.

So he really was putting a name to that awkward feeling. Love, a crush, romantic feelings, whatever the hell it was. It had to be that, he figured if _Bad_ could tell—of all people—it must be that. He _was_ being all weird and mysterious about it, too.

“I’m in deep shit, Sapnap,” Dream mumbled pitifully.

“You always are,” Sapnap responded tiredly, his cheek squished down against his arm. The words came out sounding slurred and any other time Dream would’ve been convinced that he was drunk.

“The fuck?” The blond chuckled, steadily progressing into a sigh. He had a bucket-load of shit to figure out now, and the list only seemed to get longer and longer.

Then he would figure it out later. That was starting to become his excuse.

The rest of the day dragged on for what felt like a billion years. Dream felt like ripping out fistfuls of his hair by the time it was _finally_ over—even standardized testing for five hours on end was better than glancing up at the clock every thirty minutes and finding that only two minutes had gone by. 

He found himself preferring the restless classroom environment as he walked up to George and _the girl_. He unknowingly held his breath for a moment before raising a hand in a wave. “Hey.”

George turned and grinned at him. “Hey man. Uh, so, here,” he gestured to Maia, who was simply standing next to them; it seemed like she was a bit awkward but friendly nonetheless, “this is Maia! The...friend that is a girl.”

Maia laughed at George’s odd wording and it took a lot of energy for Dream not to scowl. He really wanted to get out of there—where the fuck was Sapnap, anyway?

“Hi, it’s me, the friend that is a girl.” She held out a hand and Dream took it hesitantly; yeah, he was totally awkward. It wasn’t that he hated her, but it didn’t sit right with him that George could’ve been _dating_ her.

Though, what would he even do if George _was_ dating her? Fuck, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. He would probably act supportive, that was for sure—he couldn’t just be upset at George being happy. If he was, that is. God, his brain was starting to turn to mush and his head was pounding now; Dream needed to sit down and just sleep for years, but there was no way he could do that now. Or ever, honestly.

“Uh, nice to meet you,” Dream replied through a chuckle. He shook her hand lightly and then retracted it quicker than he intended; hopefully she didn’t read too far into it. “Sorry, I’m kinda tired today, it’s been a pretty long one for me.” Did that work? Maybe an excuse like that would take some pressure off him.

“Oh, don’t worry!” Maia waved him off and crossed her arms over her chest. “I totally get it, there’s something off about today. Even I was feeling a bit down earlier.”

“Right,” George added, nodding his head a bit. “Though it’s nice to hang out with everyone—maybe that’ll give us the energy to wake up tomorrow.”

“Or we all just pass out as soon as we step out the front doors.”

“Where are we going, anyway?”

“My house again.” George sighed a bit and gently gnawed at his bottom lip. “Er, sorry in advance if my parents say anything weird to you, Maia. You know.”

“Oh, I get it.” Maia smirked and lightly jabbed at George’s side; Dream couldn’t hold back a frown. “Don’t worry though, I won’t cause any misunderstandings!”

The blond raised an eyebrow at that comment, and part of him seemed to loosen up—he hadn’t even realized that he was tense to begin with. Surely she wouldn’t have said that if they were actually dating, right? She might’ve been a bit _too_ friendly with George now, but as long as she wasn’t hanging all over him, it was alright.

Though, honestly, Dream felt gross thinking that way. He couldn’t help being jealous now that he was sure that he had fallen for George, but it was almost like he was already claiming the poor boy as his property or something; that wouldn’t do well in the long run. Or now, really.

“Right, well, I actually can’t hang out today,” Dream spoke up between the other two; Sapnap was nowhere to be found and he wasn’t going to be there alone with them. It was probably worse to leave them alone, though.

“Oh, really? Sorry then.”

“Nah, it’s no problem. I just wanted to stop by since you said you wanted to meet or whatever.” He laughed awkwardly another time when the words left him.

“Ah, I see. Well, if that’s the case then I won’t intrude either, George! It would probably be a bit weird if it was just us, right?”

“Sapnap really wasn’t going then?”

George tilted his head to one side. “Uh, no? I never heard from him so I figured he wasn’t. Or maybe that he’d show up with you.”

“No, I haven’t seen him since our last class together either.” Dream sighed and rubbed gently over one of his shoulders. “He might be ditching us for his girlfriend or something. That prick.”

George snorted and quickly slapped a hand over his mouth as soon as it exited his nostrils; he saw Maia grin out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, what a dickhead. Well, I guess that saves my parents some time and effort, though.” He laughed and scratched at the side of his head, watching Dream shift from side to side on each foot. “Just see you tomorrow?”

“Just see you tomorrow,” Dream responded, quieter than every other thing he said. He gave a smile to George, though it seemed off to both of them, and pivoted on his heel to leave. Not another word.

Maia hummed quietly to herself; George was still watching him leave, and she figured that this would be an interesting thing to watch. But it would be more fun to play wingman, wouldn’t it?


	6. Every Feeling That I Get

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly? i have no idea where im going with any of this but i’ll get there
> 
> another short chapter- i needed to update, it’s been a while. dream is, again, suffering inwardly lol

Dream almost snapped the pencil he was holding in two. It was too hard, _way too hard_. How the hell was he supposed to write this essay, anyway? Usually he would just bullshit some stuff and then turn it in for minimum credit (surprisingly, minimum for him was around a B-), but not this paper. This was different—this was something he felt he _needed_ to research and understand.

And that was irking him.

“My brain fucking hurts,” he groaned, leaning back into the couch while slapping a hand over his forehead.

“Language,” Bad remarked calmly, curled up against the arm of the couch with a notepad against his knees for his own homework. “How far have you gotten?”

“Uh, I’m still working on the intro. Got most of it down, but the beginning is fu—er, messing me up.”

“What’s your thesis?”

Dream scratched at the side of his arm. “That, um, gay relationships are treated like they’re this new and weird thing but they’ve been around for basically forever.”

Bad paused a moment and the younger almost opened his mouth to say something else before he was silenced with a question: “Dream, I know it’s not really my business and all, but...are you actually gay? You don’t have to answer, but you know I’ll always be supporting you. I mean, I am bi, after all.”

He choked on whatever words were lingering in his mouth. “ _Wha_ —? _I_ —?” Wheezing, though this time it wasn’t his infamous laughter, Dream coughed out the room in his lungs to compose an actual reply. “Jesus, Bad, I—I don’t know?”

“Well do you wanna talk about it?”

“Only if I can pretend this was some personal interview for my essay. I need a few more sources,” Dream added, attempting at loosening himself up a bit.

“Fine.” Bad giggled a bit and leaned his head back over the side of the couch. “You’re...assuming you might be gay then, right?”

God, this was awkward; Dream’s hands were sweating more with every passing second as if he hadn’t thought he figured all this out—at least to some extent. “I...think so,” he choked out quietly.

“Why?”

A painfully uncomfortable silence fell between them as the blond tried to figure out a way to explain that he might have possibly been looking at his best friend in a way that no best friend should ever look at another. It felt wrong and impure of him to think such things—George would probably be disgusted if he ever found out.

“I think I like George? Maybe?” He breathed out, barely a whisper.

“You like him?” Bad repeated, bordering on confusion; it seemed like he wanted some kind of solid answer, but he would have tough luck getting one out of Dream right now.

Dream almost felt betrayed by the confusion wrapped in Bad’s tone (though he was just as confused, really), balling his fists in the fabric of his sweatpants. “God, I—I _guess_?”

“You _guess_?”

“I don’t know! I—liking people is weird, man. I’ve never liked anyone before, not even a girl, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Bad sighed and pressed himself further back into the couch beside Dream, lightly tapping against his own knees in a childlike rhythm. “Hmm. I’m not great with this stuff, but how does he make you feel? Do you think you could do...dating stuff with him?”

The blond’s eyebrows knit together as he took a moment to think about it; frankly, he was a little off-put by how Bad seemed to know more about this than him (had he somehow gone off and gotten himself a crush or something, too?), but he brushed it aside for now.

“Uh,” he started, fiddling nervously with the end of his sweater sleeve, “I guess...it’s like I can’t take my eyes off him?” He gently but at his lip, quickly adding, “or something,” to the end as if it would make him feel any better. 

“Well...I think that’s fine too,” Bad stated with a hum. “Just don’t go getting yourself into anything you’ll regret.”

“I know that.”

“I hope so.”

Dream rolled his eyes and crossed his legs over each other over the couch cushion. “I won’t,” he said, but part of him knew that he was too impulsive to keep that promise forever. Maybe he’d end up just rushing in and... _kissing_ George so hard that they’re both out of breath and that’ll be when he runs away and everything falls apart. Just maybe, if he even had the courage to kiss him in the first place.

For now, it was best to focus on the essay.

And after a while, through nonsensical conversations and a few too many break times, he finished and said his goodbyes to Bad. Time well spent. Time appreciated.

His room was cold; honestly, he didn’t want to go back in there. He rarely did, aside from late at night and early in the morning. Those were the only times the air in there seemed to be of any comfort. But he had nowhere else to go and lounging around in the living room would do him no good, mentally or emotionally.

Dream flopped down into his desk chair, poking at the battered screen of his PC. Shit hadn’t worked in ages and it probably wouldn’t anytime soon. He wondered what the last game he played on it was—probably some stupid kids game that his grandparents had bought for him before they passed.

He flipped through a semi-used notebook on the side of the desk, looking at the blotted words and scribbles on the worn pages; the blond knew he still had the pen clattering around in the drawer somewhere. He hadn’t found a reason to toss it out, even though it was another thing of his that had stopped working ages ago.

Dream huffed—a tired, almost mocking laugh. He felt like every damn thing in his room: worn, useless, and broken.

Maybe that’s why he’d convinced himself he liked George—maybe he was reaching for a _fix_. Maybe, with George, he wouldn’t feel broken anymore. Maybe.


	7. I Just Wanna Run, Hide It Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long time no post! sorry about that- lost motivation for quite a while. we’ll see how it goes from here, no promises.
> 
> also tw for underage drinking and very minor amounts of suicidal thoughts (sort of) in this chapter!

He didn’t want to be back there, but he was and now there wasn’t much he could do; turning around and waltzing out was an option, but could Dream’s shitty stubborn attitude allow that? Of course not.

Dream set down a pack of beer onto the counter. “Here,” he said, holding out the needed cash. He was thankful that he at least _looked_ old enough to not be carded. 

It was colder outside than he remembered, but maybe that was just because his blood was boiling. He came all the way out here, miles away from his shitty town, to some beaten-down, sleazy gas station on the corner of nowhere for what? A pack of beer? That wasn’t going to solve shit. He knew that, and yet his hands were already ripping open the package as he stepped out of the store.

He couldn’t drink it, not yet. At least not until he found some abandoned parking lot to crash in for the night. Dream was certain his parents wouldn’t miss their worn-out minivan either, so he had that going for him as well. The engine started with a violent rumble beneath him as he turned the keys, stepping on the gas. His mind was a blur; why the fuck was he so stressed? Because he started to think he was gay? Or was it George?

Fuck, he just needed to let loose. _Fast_.

He was almost surprised he made it to some random parking lot in the middle of nowhere, grass sticking through the cracks in the pavement, alive. With how tense he was driving down the empty roads, one car in the wrong place at the wrong time would’ve ended up sending him straight to the afterlife—if shit like that even existed.

Dream parked the van and cracked open the can of beer, downing it all as fast as he could. The bubbling burn down his throat was comforting, in some odd, masochistic way. It didn’t take long for his body to relax, though, which is exactly what he was looking for. He had to slow down. At least he could remain semi-sober enough to make sure he wasn’t going to fucking kill himself by alcohol poisoning. He wasn’t that upset—he hoped he never got that upset. He couldn’t be reaching for death over something like that, even if he wanted to be (which, he firmly reminded himself, he didn’t); after all, Bad accepted himself and he sure made an attempt at comforting Dream about all the awful things he’d been feeling.

Maybe George was sending him over the edge— _maybe George was his breaking point_.

As he downed his third (probably, he wasn’t counting, but it wouldn’t help much if he had been) can, the blond’s eyes scanned across the clock embedded in the car’s dashboard. Half of the school day had already passed by now. _Fuck, had he sent Sapnap a message about this?_

He scrambled to pull his phone out of the pocket of his jeans, fumbling over his own shaky fingers. He silently cursed the alcohol before checking the flood of messages he had received over the past few hours—spoiler alert, none of them were anything exciting to look at. He swiped through a few of them, not bothering to respond, before his eyes landed on George’s contact. Bile rose in the back of his throat and tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

_Why the fuck did he feel like this? Why was all of this piling up on him? Why was he blaming George? Why, why, why?_

Dream swore he was feeling fine just the other day. Maybe it was the alcohol—it was easy to blame the alcohol when it was swimming mercilessly through his bloodstream. He scrolled endlessly through stupid, meaningless conversations that he found himself hanging onto more and more with each passing second; they meant nothing to him, so why did he feel so fucking _sick_ reading over them?

It wasn’t real—it hadn’t been real before. It wasn’t real when he was thought George looked pretty when he slept, it wasn’t real when Bad had come out to him, it wasn’t real when he felt jealousy bubbling inside of him when George had brought up a girl; it wasn’t real then, so why _now_? He admitted it out loud—well, _barely_ , but it was enough to be a vocalization of whatever the fuck he was feeling. He admitted it, so why was Dream still feeling like he was going to vomit just reading about how George was stressing out over some homework assignment from months ago? Why did a dumb image of him pressing his face against Sapnap’s computer monitor send him spiraling?

He groaned and flicked on the radio. He couldn’t just fucking sit in the dreaded silence with his thoughts anymore. He needed to clear them out with some shitty pop or rock music. It didn’t help much, but it was better than nothing— _much_ better. Dream finally clicked open a message to Sapnap and found that he hadn’t actually informed anyone that he would be cutting classes, hence the bombardment of worried messages from both him _and_ George. He decided it would be best to ignore how his heart seemed to clench up.

There was no explanation, just a simple “I’m fine,” and then he shut his phone off again. Of course he felt guilty for worrying his friends, but the blond was more focused on just not feeling like a complete piece of shit at the moment. He reached for another can—fourth or fifth now—and took his time with this one. The car had become warmer under the relentless rays of the sun, sweat sticking to every inch of Dream’s skin.

He thought, for a single moment, about the last time he had lost it and gotten drunk. It was only last year (fuck if he remembers why, it was probably something stupid), but the few months he was alcohol-free were some of the best. Hopefully this wouldn’t become a habit again—if it did, he would only hate himself more. 

Dream shut his eyes and leaned back in his seat, letting the sunlight wash over him. He was still sticky with sweat, but the heat brought him at least some sort of comfort. It was much better than the cold he had felt walking out of the gas station. His hands traveled up and tangled in his bangs, tugging for some sort of reminder that he was still alive, still in reality and not dragged off to some distorted and fucked-up wonderland. He zoned in on the sound of his pulse beating loud in the back of his mind before peeling his eyelids open and glancing down; safety seemed to have gone out the window when he decided it would be a good idea to fucking drink five whole cans of beer in two and a half hours. _Had it really been that long already_? Dream could’ve sworn he had just hit send on the text message to Sapnap and that was at around noon.

His eyes fell down to the clock again and a wave of shock washed over him; it almost sobered him up, too. Indeed, two and a half hours had already passed and it was just barely three in the afternoon now. Dream felt sick again, but this time it wasn’t because of George. He wasn’t even _thinking_ about George now. Until he was, because he had started to think about how he _wasn’t_. 

It took a lot of self-control and restraint not to just drive off immediately. A little voice in the back of his head screamed louder than the rest, which was just enough to keep him promptly parked with the break on—no need to get anymore reckless than he already was. Dream wiped the sweat off his palms against jeans that now felt horrible against his skin thanks to the Floridian heat (at least, more so than usual). He felt like shit sitting in that empty lot, all alone, with nothing but the poignant smell of beer clinging to his clothes and the walls of the car. He was half-thankful and half-devastated that his mind was already clearing up, but he figured it was because he couldn’t stop thinking, even while five cans deep in alcohol. 

His forgotten phone buzzed in his palm, startling him ever so slightly. He groaned, the sound of the default ringtone spiking pain into his brain. Dream squinted at the screen, his heart dropping in his chest when he realized who it was: _George_. He really couldn’t do this. Not now. Not while he was still drunk, even if it felt like he was barely under the influence. The call rang hollowly until it died down, sparing only a moment of silence before it started up again.

_Why the hell was he calling again?_

Against his better judgement, Dream answered this time.

“Yes?” He rasped out, balancing the phone on his thigh while setting it to speaker mode.

“ _Dream_ ,” George’s tone was unfair. It was so unfair. “Where the hell were you today? You never contact us so late—did something happen?”

“Not really,” Dream replied simply. His mind uselessly supplied, _you, George, you happened. You’re my problem_. “Just...wasn’t feeling up to it today.”

There was a pause. Then, quieter, “Are you sure? You...seem more distant lately. Did I do something wrong?”

Dream’s breath hitched. Before he could stop himself, he was spilling over, “Fuck—no, George, you didn’t do anything wrong, you could never do anything wrong. I just— _god_ , George, I’m the one who’s fucked everything up.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I can’t—I can’t talk about this now. Shit. I’m sorry.” Dream tugged roughly on his bangs, locked between the gaps of his fingers; he needed to be pulled back to reality. This wasn’t some private dream where he could gush about all his emotions and problems without consequence. This was reality, whether the alcohol told him it wasn’t or not.

“Dream? Please, I—I want to help you. We’re best friends, aren’t we?” George’s voice drops low, vulnerable, “Please.”

And he almost fucking broke the dam. He almost let everything out right there, just because of George’s voice and how weak and _raw_ he sounded—and _fuck, he wanted to kiss away that feeling._

There was really no going back from that.

“I’m sorry,” Dream repeated, his voice breaking, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He hated this—having to lie to George, having to worry him, all this miscommunication. But it was hard; he didn’t want to lose George. He cared too much. Supporting same sex relationships is a lot different than actually dealing with the burden of one. “I can’t.”

George went silent and Dream felt like his whole body was melting into the leather seat behind him.

“Okay,” the older finally whispered. “Okay. I’m sorry for pressing. See you tomorrow? Maybe? Hopefully?”

Dream swallowed dryly. “Maybe,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to up the quality since im not super satisfied with a lot of the earlier chapters. :)


End file.
